


inside my present so much past

by likewinning



Series: nothing gets crossed out [8]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Comment Fic, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Texts From Last Night, really dysfunctional relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 06:16:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4169097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(205): i just realized why god gave us younger siblings....to DD for us when we come home for the summer.</p><p>Part of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/275142">this</a> verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	inside my present so much past

Dick comes home on a Friday night. Jason's not waiting up for him, or anything, just happens to be the only one still awake, sitting out on the front steps smoking.

"Jesus, you need to cut your hair," Jason says as soon as he sees him, and Dick beams down at him, ruffles his hair and says, "I was just going to say the same thing to you. Now put out the cancer stick and help me with my stuff."

Jason does, but not before Dick pulls him to his feet, drags him into a hug tight enough to suffocate him. He smells like fast food and Mountain Dew, the same cologne he's used since high school, and Jason breathes him in and holds on just as tight.

It hasn't been the same without him here.

They get Dick's stuff upstairs, trying to be quiet since Bruce and Damian are already asleep. Jason stands in the doorway until Dick pats a spot on the bed for him to sit. Everything's exactly where Dick left it, except for the stash of twenties Jason took out from one of Dick's old CD cases when he needed money for beer and art supplies, except for the t-shirts Jason stole and got covered in paint.

"So," Dick says. "I hear you're actually going to graduate next year."

Jason shrugs. "Well, you know, maybe. If I don't get kicked out first."

"Jase…" Dick starts.

"Ooh," Jason says, checking the time on his phone. "You've been home for fifteen minutes, and already the lecture's about to start."

"Asshole," Dick says.

"Whatever," Jason says. "You missed me _so much_."

"I did," Dick says, and Jason tries to ignore how easily Dick says it, like it doesn't take anything out of him to do so. "You working on anything good lately?" Dick asks.

"Maybe," Jason says. He's kind of been going through a block. He brings Dick down the hall to his studio, though, turns on the lights and stands back against the wall so Dick can look around.

Dick takes his time. With Roy or Bruce, any time they ask to see his stuff, they just look around for a minute or two and tell him he's good, but Dick really _looks_ at things, comments on brush strokes and lighting, laughs when he gets to the big oil painting of Roy giving him the finger, pauses on the one of Tim in glasses, looking sleepy and happy and a little nervous.

"You guys still hanging out?" Dick asks Jason when he gets to the last one.

"Not as much," Jason admits. "He's been really busy. Guess that's what happens when you actually give a shit about your future."

Dick turns back to look at him, starts, "Jay…"

"Nope," Jason says. "None of that. When are we getting drunk?"

Dick laughs, scrubs at his hair. "I'm exhausted from all that driving. But tomorrow night, if you want, maybe we can do something."

Jason hears the _maybe_ a little too loud, but he nods and says, "Yeah. Sounds good."

*

Dick blows him off two nights in a row. The first, he has plans with Barbara, and Jason doesn't want to get in the way of that so he calls Tim, then Roy, and when neither of them are around he locks himself in his studio with a joint and a bottle of wine, paints abstract bullshit that he throws out the next morning.

The next night, after he visits Tim at his summer job, he texts Dick to see if he wants to do something tonight. He waits ten, twenty minutes before he gets an answer:

_sry, baby bro. we're out at Donna's place. too drunk to come back 4 u. pick me up later?_

Jason thinks about throwing his phone across the room – he waited fucking _months_ for Dick to come home, pretended like every time Dick called he didn't stop whatever – or whoever – he was doing to answer the phone. And now –

 _yeah, of course_ , Jason answers. He goes downstairs, plays three hours of Madden with Damian before his phone rings.

*

Jason's seen Dick drunk before. Not as much in the last couple of years – not after Dick hit the middle of his junior year, stopped talking to Roy, stopped getting high and fucking off and started taking shit _seriously._ No, since then, Jason's maybe seen him tipsy once or twice, but not –

This.

"Jay," Dick says, dragging out his name until there are at least three extra syllables. Jason waited for him outside the car for twenty minutes before he stumbled out of Donna's apartment in the city, pulling his shirt back over his head, smelling like weed and his mouth painted three different colors from Jell-o shots.

He wraps his arms around Jason, mouths at his neck and then tilts his head up toward his ear. "Jay, you got so _tall_. 'm supposed to be the big brother around here."

"Yeah, well," Jason says. He thinks about years ago, when Dick would call him before he got home, saying, _I'm too drunk, come sneak me upstairs_ and they'd hide in Jason's room, watch movies or listen to music, fuck around sometimes –

"It's a good thing I'm bigger," Jason says now, "because it's lookin' like I'm gonna have to carry you upstairs."

"Mm," Dick says. His hands are around Jason's neck, but they start to move under the back of Jason's shirt, touching the nob of his spine, the muscles in his shoulders. "I'm heavier than I look, y'know."

The thing is, it's so hard to stay mad at Dick. When Bruce first took him in, Dick was his anchor. Even though the house has about a hundred rooms, they shared one for the first two years, wore each others' clothes, listened to the same music. Dick called him "brother" before Jason could even conceive of the word. Jason's gotten so spoiled since then, so ungrateful, but Dick –

"Come on," Jason says. "It's a long drive back."

He figures Dick is just going to pass out as soon as they get in the car, but instead, he spends most of the time fiddling with Jason's stereo, yammering on about everything. "Donna's going to art school, too, you know? Maybe she could help you out. Or Kori, she's pretty talented, too, but y'know – a little crazy. And I can't _believe_ you bitched about my hair when Roy looks like –"

Jason looks at him from the mirror. "Roy was there?"

"Yeah," Dick says. "I mean, I asked him to come. I know we don't… I mean, I wasn't sure if he even would…"

Jason's grip tightens on the steering wheel, but he doesn't say what he wants to, doesn't say _of course he fucking did. He'd jump in front of this car if you asked him to._

"Oh," Jason says. "Well. I'm glad you had a good time."

"The best," Dick says. He reaches over and pats Jason's leg, says, "I missed you, though."

"Yeah," Jason says. "I missed you, too."

He turns up the stereo, listens to Dick sing along loud and out of tune until they get back to Gotham.

*

He doesn't have to carry Dick, but he does have to help him up the stairs, Dick giggling every time he trips. "I'm such a good drunk dancer," Dick comments. "But stairs… stairs are the enemy."

Jason doesn't say anything, just keeps them moving, but Dick stops them at the top, puts his hand on Jason's chest. "Jay," he says. He licks his lips, getting more blue on them. "Jay, can we go to your studio again?"

"Sure," Jason says. It's a little further up the hall, but once they get on flat ground Dick takes off ahead of him, bursting into the room and flipping the lights on. When Jason catches up, Dick's still standing in the doorway, staring at the newest piece Jason's been working on: it's the two of them from years ago, done all in blue and black, based off an old Polaroid Babs took of them once.

"Oh," Dick says. He steps into the room, moves closer to it. "Jase," he says. He touches the lines of their faces, the little details of their hair. "This is really good."

"Yeah, yeah," Jason says. "You just like looking at your face. Let's get you to bed. That hangover's gonna be a bitch tomorrow, college boy."

"Not yet," Dick says. He sits down on the ground and just _stares_ for a while, blue eyes all dilated, and Jason moves to sit down next to him. He takes in the curve of Dick's neck, his sharp cheekbones, the way little pieces of his hair fall into his eyes, the way he can stay so still now, and be an energetic mess seconds later. Looking at Dick now, he knows no painting can even begin to do him justice.

"Come on," Jason says. He stands back up, reaches for Dick's hand and tugs him to his feet. He starts to move, but Dick stops him, says, "Jay, I kinda fucked up, didn't I?"

Jason sighs. "No, you didn't," he says. It's not really the truth, but it's close. "You went to school, Dick. You made something out of yourself. I just don't always fit into whatever that is. It's fine man, okay?"

They get all the way to Dick's room before Dick speaks again. He lets go of Jason's hand, and Jason starts to say goodnight, but then Dick says, "It's really not," and pulls him forward by the collar of his shirt until their teeth clack together, the angle all wrong because the last time they did this –

The last time they did this Jason was smaller, and skinnier, and so in love with Dick he didn't think he'd ever find his way out of it. He's still not sure he has. He cups Dick's jaw, fixes the angle and tastes the cigarettes Dick only smokes when he's been drinking, tastes vodka and weed, and Dick's mouth is so soft, even softer than he remembers, and when Dick reaches under his shirt and touches his stomach, Jason's whole body shivers.

"I shoulda been there for you more," Dick says, moving his mouth down to kiss Jason's neck. "You needed me, Jay, and I…"

"No," Jason says. He pushes Dick back, keeps them moving until the back of Dick's knees hit his bed and he sits down. Jason kneels in front of him, parts Dick's legs. "You didn't do anything wrong, okay? Don't fucking start. I'm big enough now I can kick your ass."

Dick smiles, and Jason thinks _oh yeah, that's why he gets away with everything._ He touches Jason's cheek, says, "Pretty sure you could kick my ass the second you met me. Little punk."

"Yeah, maybe," Jason says. "Just shut up, okay? I didn't – I'm okay, Dick. Really." _I just needed you too much._

Dick nods, says, "Come up here." And Jason wants to, is the thing, would love to fuck around and then curl up in Dick's bed like old times, spend the next afternoon watching TV in here, but if he gets in that bed again it's just going to be worse when he has to leave.

"No," Jason says. He gets Dick's fly open, isn't the least bit surprised to find Dick isn't wearing anything under his jeans. "Just let me do this, okay? I want to." _I need to._

He's used to Roy and Tim, used to going fast, just letting someone fuck his face until his eyes water, pull his hair and turn his throat raw, but with Dick it's different. Dick lets him go his own way, pets his hair, strokes his cheek, says his name a hundred different ways as Jason sucks him down with a kind of veneration that's goddamn unhealthy.

He cups Dick's balls, takes his dick all the way down and hums around him, again and again until the vibration is too much for Dick and he says, "Jay, Jay, I'm gonna –"

Jason pulls back for it, lets Dick spill all over his mouth and chin and then licks it up, tries to memorize the taste.

"God, Jay," Dick says. He wipes Jason's face with his thumb, slides off the bed and kisses Jason, sloppy and wet and a little, Jason thinks, like Roy. He kisses Jason down to the floor, gets his hand in his jeans, but Jason's so hard he comes just from the touch of him, comes like he's fifteen and desperate, and maybe he's not as far away from that as he thinks.

Dick giggles, licks the mess from his hands, and when he sits back up his eyes get serious again. "I'm gonna make this right, Jay," he says. He's a disaster, hair going in three directions, face all flushed and come on his lips, but the thing of it is some stupid part of Jason still _believes_ him.

"Yeah," Jason says. He sits up, kisses the streak of blue on Dick's cheek, the stubble on his jaw, and then he stands up. "I know you are."


End file.
